


The Splendor and Misery, of Bodies, of Cities, of Being Missed.

by AGreySunset



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Babe as a platonic term bc remy, Burns, Child Neglect, Crying, Dehydration, Dissociation, Fear of Injury, Flashbacks, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Isolation, Janus is half blind, Loneliness, One Shot, Oops, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Queerplatonic Relationships, Remy is mostly blind but i forgot to mention it, Scars, Self-Harm, Shedding, Stargazing, Tags Are Hard, Trauma, Trying to tag well, trauma anniversary, very graphic flashback
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:15:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27803644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGreySunset/pseuds/AGreySunset
Summary: Janus hates birthdays. He hates them. He hates remembering them, he hates when people make a big deal out of it.or: Trauma anniversaries are hard, but Janus has friends that are there to help.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	The Splendor and Misery, of Bodies, of Cities, of Being Missed.

**Author's Note:**

> This is rushed but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ I'm posting it. Title from "A Better Place" by clipping.  
> Lemme know if I missed any tags!

Deceit is tense.

He’s clutching his only water bottle so tightly it won’t stop crinkling. He knows he should be quiet, he wishes he could, but he’s crinkling the water bottle and whistling, loud, panicked shrieks from his tongue. The T.V. is turned up so loudly there’s no chance anyone can hear him, but he’s still scared.

Of all the places to shed, why here? A dry, cold closet with nothing but him. It hurts, and shedding shouldn’t hurt. He wishes it wouldn’t hurt.

The closet is only about two feet wide, and twice that in length. He’s been curled up, so tense, and he just wants to stretch his legs. He wishes to be able to lay on his side, he wants to be away from this stupid moldy wall. His whistling is so loud in his ears.

His face is burning, and his aggressive scratching only worsens it. He wishes he could stop, but he can’t let himself stop scratching, it’s the only way to get the scales off at this point, and he needs them off. They should have been off a week ago, but they weren’t. He hopes they come off soon.

He can’t get his shed off, no matter how much he wants to, so he whistles. It’s something he can control.

He slumps against the wall, letting his arms drop to his side. He sniffs the water bottle again, as he's been doing intermittently for the hours he’s been in here. It still smells vaguely of piss, but he doesn’t want to assume the worst. It’s not like he has much to choose from. He has to choose whether to try and drink it or use it to help his shed.

He’s so thirsty, but the idea of cool water around his swollen face and eye sounds heavenly. 

He doesn’t want to be here. He wants to be with his mom, he wants a blanket. He doesn't want to make a decision where he risks dying. He wants it to stop.

He starts sipping at the water, ignoring the foul taste and curls his knees closer to his chest. He lets himself stop scratching for a minute, and starts humming to try and relax.

He wakes up to the stench of mold, and the coppery tang of his own blood. His face hurts worse, and his eye feels itchy. There’s a small beeping. He doesn’t want to move, he doesn’t know if he can deal with anything else, but he reluctantly raises his head.

It’s his watch. He has a cheap little watch with Batman printed on it, and it reads 12:00. 

Oh.

It’s his birthday. He’s 10.

His head feels cottony, but he vaguely remembers he gets a wish. He can’t remember all the things he wants to wish for, but he remembers some, like a face that doesn't hurt or more water. He knows he has a lot of things he wants to wish for, but he thinks he gets another wish because it’s his birthday. 

… He hopes he gets to see the sky today.

His thoughts are slow and sluggish, but he thinks he’s made a good wish. He hopes it comes true.

_-_-_-_

He’s woken to a piano song. It’s awfully dramatic, and as he stirs awake, he realizes the song is from that video game Virgil likes. Why did he have to move in with a horror aficionado again?

His eyes slide open, and he sees Remy leaning over him, face slightly tight with concern. 

“What’s up babe?”

Remy’s words don’t show how concerned he is, he’s clearly trying to keep it together for Janus. Janus isn’t sure if it’s working. 

He doesn’t really feel like there’s anything to hold together. He feels like a wisp of smoke. He feels like he’s a foot below his body, peering through the bed to his own sleeping figure. He feels like a ghost. He blinks slowly.

“I’m dissociated. Think somethin’ gonna happen.” He barely manages to whisper the words. Fear boils in him as he admits his own weakness, and tears prickle at his eyes. Both the tears and fear feel far, far away.

Remy knows it’s hard and makes sure not to move closer or farther away without telling Janus. “Okay, honey. Virgil’s here, he’s safe. He’s making breakfast. I’m right here. No one else is in the house.”

Putting words together is hard, but Janus does feel relieved by his lover's words. “That… that helps.”

“I’m glad JJ! Anything else I can do to help?”

Janus starts sobbing at that.

He doesn’t want to start sobbing, Remy is trying to help him, but it becomes too much. He doesn’t know what he wants, he can’t think. He can’t respond, but he doesn't want to make everything Remy’s job. He should be able to answer that.

Janus watches Remy's face and sees his growing horror and disappointment, as Janus doesn't calm down, and that's bad. Remy isn't happy. 

Despite his efforts he doesn't get quieter. In fact, his sobbing only goes louder, turning into loud wheezing breaths.

Remy is mad, he's going to be trapped and he’ll be helpless! His second eye will burn up and go blind. He can't, not again!

“Hey, hey Jay, look at me, baby. Please?”

The voice is soft, but Janus doesn't want to. He looks at him though, he has too. He tries to keep his mouth shut, but before he can stop himself he’s sobbing out. "Please don't make me, I can't shed here!" He starts crying even harder when he realizes how loud he just was. 

Remy starts crying at that, and Janus is terrified, despite the small glimmer of hope that he can talk again.

His voice is thick, but he sounds honest as he whispers. "I'm not going to make you do anything baby. Nothing at all. What do you want? How can I help?”

“No shedding! I can't shed. Please don't make me. Not here!”

“I don't think you're going to shed anytime soon, but we can set up the water, brushes, and humidifier?”

“Please, please do, I can't shed in there!”

“Okay! You can shed wherever you want. I'll get the water right now?”

“Thank you so much, thank you!” Emotion flooded through him as he recognized Remy. Janus was still a bit hysterical, but he wasn't panicking as much, instead sobbing in what felt like relief. Was it? 

He doesn't know how long Remy is gone, but when he re-enters the room, Janus notices his breathing has slowed. He describes Remy's room in his head, in agonizing detail, feeling it solidify and become real around him. 

He doesn’t notice Virgil is there until the bed creaks next to him.

“Hi Dee.” Virgil’s voice feels soothing in a nearly overwhelming way.

“Hi.”

Virgil shifts next to him, glancing at him over. “Is there any way we can help? Anything to help you with today?” 

Both his qpp's understand how hard his birthday is, how the memory of his shed going so poorly sticks with him, the scales permanently scarred on his left side, and his blinded eye is a constant reminder of how vulnerable he is during his sheds.

It’s hard to remember that he can ask for things, that he can ask for help, but he does.

“Can I go outside? Eat breakfast there?” 

“Of course you can!” He slowly receives two heart-warming hugs, before he’s pulled to his feet. 

The inside of his apartment is a welcome sight after that morning, littered and cozy and warm. Remy keeps talking, and Janus mutters out his responses and the whole routine is familiar and grounding. 

He is left outside alone for a minute as his qpps went inside to bring him breakfast. It’s stunning. The sun is shining, clouds peppered in, and he nearly cries at how beautiful it is. 

They spend most of the day outside, Virgil only going back inside to get food, and then sleeping bags. They watch youtube videos, play cheap mobile games, cloud gaze, and then stargaze. They spend the whole day there, and then fall asleep in a weird sleeping bag pile.

It’s the best birthday he’s ever had.

**Author's Note:**

> I almost didn't add a happy ending, but I'm glad I ended it that way.


End file.
